


you are missing from me

by jongdae (babykibum)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Chanyeol is sad, M/M, like the sadness that makes you hide from everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-01
Packaged: 2018-08-18 21:18:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8176412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babykibum/pseuds/jongdae
Summary: jongin seeks chanyeol out.





	

**Author's Note:**

> chanyeol is... so very sad, and everything is in lapslock :'( please excuse the way this has been written..

 

jongin's day is quiet. 

usually there would be the pitter patter of chanyeol's footsteps echoing through the hallway and seeping into his study room, or the thudding that sometimes brings out the creaks sounding from the wooden floor beneath. jongin has never minded the noises chanyeol makes when he's here. but today chanyeol's presence is void from jongin's home, and it's been so quiet.

jongin thinks maybe chanyeol has decided to not wake from his sleep just yet. it's almost four in the afternoon. maybe chanyeol just doesn't want to leave the warmth of his bed just yet. too many times chanyeol has told him that sometimes, the cold that touches his skin is unnerving. that sometimes, even the thought of leaving the comfort of his bed terrifies him. jongin knows. sometimes, chanyeol can't bring himself to wake up. jongin knows but understands, he doesn't do enough.

it isn't one of the cold days today. but the breeze that filters through the space of his home is cool enough to wake goosebumps on jongin's skin, yet they greet him gently through the windows he has thrown open after he has woken up. jongin's home is not a mansion, he thinks to himself, but many of the town folks outside would beg to differ. maybe that's why the warmth from outside has turned a lot cooler. trapped inside a space so large, the wind is bound to lose it's warmth. jongin doesn't mind. but maybe chanyeol has known that it would have been cold inside jongin's home. maybe that's why he doesn't come today. he is not fond of the cold afterall. 

maybe jongin should have left his own and walk outside until he reaches chanyeol.

it's four in the afternoon. jongin has been keeping himself in his study room since noon, the one with the four high shelves and the thick scent of books envelops the room's atmosphere. where his sturdy table is situated not from from the tall window and the sunlight could reach him when it rests just right in between clouds, high up in the sky. jongin regards the letter he's been writing for his older brother, regaling him of his own tales for the past couple of weeks. he's been at it for almost an hour he thinks, and remembers that he has just finished his book and almost leaves this room and his home before the letter is delivered to him.

maybe now jongin should see chanyeol. it's already four in the afternoon.

jongin leaves with his cane in his hand, walking on cobblestones that turns to dirt after a fifteen minutes walk. chanyeol lives by the edge, far from the town. but that is never a hindrance for jongin, even when he needs to rely more on his cane tapping hard against earth as he walks on after several while. on his sides, the surrounding has a gradual change from gardens and fruits orchards to wild shrubs and thick woods. jongin listens to the sound of the forest, crickets and the birds, the hustle of wind sifting through swaying branches and leaves. he sees chanyeol's hut from a distance just when he welcomes the gentle sound of a stream nearby against his ears.

chanyeol is... just chanyeol. his chanyeol. jongin hasn't known what chanyeol does as an occupation, if he even works at all. he met chanyeol about five full moons back he thinks, a tall figure, stranger, huddled under sheets of pouring rain near jongin's gate. 

jongin had stared at the drenched soul for a while through the window of his music room, on the second floor, before he carried himself out and down the many flight of stairs. the strain had pulled his left leg into a useless part of himself but he ignored the damned tool and dragged it along the way until he was outside and stood under the rain. it was cold. within seconds he could already feel shivers running down his spine and working to his bones. and then he saw chanyeol, on the ground crouching and hugging himself close to his chest, as if trying to make himself smaller. after jongin brought him inside his home, chanyeol has been... has become a part of jongin. 

sweet, bumbling chanyeol with a voice deep in his chest, rumbling within himself and rumbles throughout jongin's days. jongin grows fond of him. never mind the clothing on his back is only a few, that his hands have dirt underneath his nails and his cheeks grubby with sooth. chanyeol's hair is inky black and always so, so soft between jongin's fingers and they fluff on top of his head like the softest and fluffiest bread jongin fancies himself having in the morning. but sweet and bumbling chanyeol is sometimes just a whimper and a sob that escapes in the quietest of day. now jongin is on the step of chanyeol's door, heaving himself up through the couple of stone stairs and listens for the quietness from chanyeol's home.

it's quiet. jongin knocks four times. the door is not lock and he twists the knob, pushes the door open slowly.

"chanyeol," he calls out. the inside of the hut looks the same as he remembers. jongin has only been here for... a couple of times? chanyeol has always make his presence at jongin's home. the hut is clean and has just the few of necessities placed inside. a window, to the left of the front door, is bare from curtain. jongin sees the little plant in a large pot sitting on the sill. he thinks it plain, boring moss-green plant with no blooming flowers and leaves shape like thick needles. it's small. jongin doesn't think it will ever grow large enough to fill its pot but chanyeol treasures it akin like a similar to himself. jongin doesn't understand. he never really does.

it is a little too cold in the hut despite it being a warm day outside. the chill nips at jongin's skin as he steps forward, steps towards the lone close door further inside. he stops before it, resting his cane on the side as he presses his mouth close to the wooden surface.

"chanyeol, sweetheart," he calls again. "it's jongin."

it's quiet. jongin pushes at the door, gentler than he ever does at any, like a scared child trying to brave the monsters on the other side. the door gives way. jongin forgets his cane and walks into the small room, smaller than even the tool shed in his backyard. he finds chanyeol in his bed, a cocoon with a grey cover wrapping his body close, shut from the world. it's less colder here, but it is still cold.

jongin aches. his silly leg aches from the walk and his good leg aches from the heavy dependence he uses to take his steps. his chest aches, like a constraint that makes it harder to breathe. his heart aches, somehow, looking at chanyeol in his bed. it's four. it is already four in the afternoon. and four small steps to get to chanyeol before jongin lowers himself onto the bed, right next to sleeping chanyeol who hasn't bothered with the world today.

"chanyeol," jongin says closely to the inky black hair that escapes its cover. he pulls the thin fabric down slowly and he sees chanyeol's eyes, close. he sees his nose and his mouth and a sliver of his bare neck. "chanyeol." jongin drops a kiss on the sweet cheek, though it feels cold on his lips.

chanyeol stirs, ever so slowly, not like the bumbling chanyeol jongin is very fond of. this chanyeol, jongin thinks him sad. jongin is fond of him too, but he aches at the same time.

chanyeol turns, opens his eyes with a frown etched between his brows, as if it's difficult to wake him up, as if it hurts to run away from sleep. he takes a look at jongin and stares through sleepy eyes. he lets out a sigh, pitiful sounding and his eyes flutter shut.

"wake up, chanyeol. it's.. the sun is closer to set than rise." jongin whispers. he has laid himself on the bed, his head pillowed on his right palm as he seeks for chanyeol.  chanyeol's breathing is soft and it's warm when it touches jongin. chanyeol opens his eyes.

"why are you here." not a question. chanyeol is too tired to ask questions, jongin has heard him muttered under his breath before. chanyeol's voice is deep with sleep, rumbles through his chest and vibrates against jongin's ears, jongin's chest. it's like.. a closed door that has been pushed open, beckoning jongin with the sound of its creak. it's good enough, jongin thinks. chanyeol is slowly waking up, slowing letting him in again inside his quiet world. maybe, maybe. jongin hasn't really known but.

jongin reaches out, brushes inky black away from furrowed forehead and caresses chanyeol's cheek. their eyes locked. jongin thinks chanyeol already knows why he is here. chanyeol seems to know jongin, seems to understand that jongin seeks his presence. even when jongin cannot really understand chanyeol. why? why can't he? how can he?

"are you sad today?" jongin asks. chanyeol bites his lower lip but inches closer towards jongin. their noses almost touch. chanyeol's breath is warm. in this cold room, chanyeol is warm. i know, jongin thinks. you're sad, i know.

"always," chanyeol says. like the little plant he keeps in a large pot, soaking in sunlight and then hiding from the rays when chanyeol keeps it away. because it doesn't need to greet the sun for a long while. 'else it will wither away. chanyeol is in his bed at four in the afternoon, like he despises the sun today.

jongin wraps his hand over chanyeol's shoulder and pulls him close. closer until his lips brush against chanyeol's lips, until he could speak against those lovely flesh, chapped  and soft, pale and red at uneven places. he closes his eyes so he can see chanyeol behind his eyelids.

"why are you always sad?"

"maybe the moon is greedy for my grief."

that's not true. jongin doesn't understand and he kisses chanyeol harder, presses his lips against his lovely, sad chanyeol.

"don't talk in riddles. speak to me, please."

"but everything is in riddles."

"am i a riddle then? chanyeol."

"you are. but you are easy to unravel. some riddles are a lot more complicated to understand. like this life."

"like you." riddles like chanyeol that jongin cannot understand. jongin pulls away, just the littlest space away from chanyeol and looks at him.

"like me," chanyeol says. his eyes are smiling but they are sad.

"wake up," jongin begs. "for now. you've been missing from me."

"i'm sorry." chanyeol says. his speaks with his tongue and his body, taking jongin into the warmest hug jongin has ever been given. maybe it's their warmth share together. maybe chanyeol's sadness isn't cold. maybe chanyeol's sadness is warm because it's alive and eating chanyeol from the inside. and jongin aches, so much within himself. it starts from his heart, travelling through his veins until it reaches every part of himself. a prickling feeling that seems to put him on edge. jongin's breath stutters because he feels so much and yet it feels like he's clawing desperately at something.. empty. something he doesn't really understand. like chanyeol.

jongin breaks. he cries softly. his tears are eager to soak into chanyeol, inside the curve of chanyeol's neck and onto his collarbones.

"don't be sad because of me," chanyeol tells him, murmurs the words softly that shift through jongin's hair and settle in his thoughts. "we have one too many lost soul between us."

"then come home to me," jongin begs again. home, come home to him. not home at the mansion the town folks have said he lived in. not home in this hut at the very edge, a far and quiet place, ignored and alone. just jongin. just come home to jongin and don't be alone in this bed, hiding away from everything.

"i'm already home." chanyeol says. "i'm awake and home with you." for now. for now, for now, jongin thinks he hears beneath those words. home, chanyeol says, with jongin. it settles his cries into a quiet sobbing, until his tears run dry and has soaked deep into chanyeol. 

jongin pulls away, drops his legs on the floor and pulls chanyeol out of the bed. jongin pulls him awake until they are both standing on tired legs, chest to chest and eyes into each other. it's quiet and their breaths are almost silent.

jongin pulls chanyeol out of the room and into the spaces of his home. chanyeol walks in slow steps, looks around his home like he is contemplating something completely foreign to him. disoriented, maybe, before chanyeol goes for his little plant in the large pot and carefully lifts it up, away from the greeting sunlight and puts it on the small, round table at the very corner farthest away from light. jongin sees traces of sadness and apologies in chanyeol's eyes, as if he's sorry that he has let his little plant in the large pot to be under the sun for so long. maybe he has. jongin doesn't know. maybe chanyeol forgets too, sometimes.

"i'm tired," chanyeol says quietly to the little plant, like a hush whisper that barely reaches jongin. he sounds tired, so very tired jongin fears he might let his legs miss the ground.

and jongin, jongin and his own tired leg that weighs him down sometimes. but he limps forward until he reaches chanyeol, until his chest meets the back of chanyeol, broad and warm and the space he has known as comfort. "i know," he whispers back, "i know. come here, chanyeol." 

chanyeol turns around. sad and tired, his lovely chanyeol. the inky black hair falls softly against chanyeol's forehead. jongin closes the distance and breathes him in and kisses chanyeol softly on those lovely lips. he tastes the salt of his own tears and hopes that he breathes in life within chanyeol. for now. 

for a long while.

 


End file.
